


Momentum

by lifeaftermeteor



Series: Life After Meteor [6]
Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: BROTPs abound, Gen, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Endless Waltz, Post-Series, Preventers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-22
Updated: 2016-01-22
Packaged: 2018-05-15 13:00:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 8,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5786146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lifeaftermeteor/pseuds/lifeaftermeteor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five years after the launch of Operation Meteor, Heero and Wufei are partners at Preventers' Disarmament and Verification division, Duo is flying rescue missions for field agents, and Quatre and Trowa's interactions are becoming increasingly toxic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is part 6 of the [Life After Meteor](http://archiveofourown.org/series/391015) series, which trails the Gundam Pilots (and others) through the years post-war. Welcome comments/feedback.

**Preventers Headquarters  
** **Geneva, Switzerland**  
**200 February 8**

“The report to the disarmament compliance committee is three months late,” Wufei informed his partner as he stepped into their shared office and dropped his notebook on his desk. “Hopefully they won’t notice,” he added. 

Without looking up from another report he was busy pounding through, the computer keys clicking their complaint at the mistreatment, Heero shot back, “They’re government officials. They can’t count.”

Wufei chuckled. "Losing faith in the system already, Yuy? _She_ is a government official, remember,” he admonished, slipping in Heero’s preferred code for a certain VFM up on L4.

The typing did stop then. Heero pivoted in his chair to eye Wufei, but his gaze quickly drifted to the space between them. “True,” he admitted, “but she’s not on the compliance committee.” And with that, turned back to his report.

Wufei rolled his eyes and shook his head, but found himself hoping Heero’s logic was sound. “I’m going to grab some caffeine. Want anything?” Heero paused in his typing once more to consider, before acknowledging with a simple enough order. Wufei acknowledged the request for _two_ sugars, and ducked back out of their office and into the hallway, the clacking of Heero’s keyboard fading away behind him.

After Duo had completed his transfer out of the field and into the pilot seat, Heero – Wufei had been later informed – had seen little reason to stay with the counter-threat division to which he’d been originally assigned. As it happened, Disarmament and Verification’s Southeast Asia branch had just experienced a massive turn-over through the holidays and was desperately searching for new blood. 

It was coincidence that Wufei had had the same thought regarding his own account. IRA [1] had given him the respite he needed from fieldwork, but the hours had wreaked havoc on his mental state in unique but not entirely different ways to staring down gun barrels. DV offered fewer chances of getting shot at – in principle – but more opportunities of catching people in their own deceit. More handcuffs and reports with long citations, less blood. 

Why neither of them had mentioned their respective transfers to one another, they never could figure out – he and Heero had discovered the fact they were now working in the same office when they each walked into their first huddle with their new director and teammates. They’d shared a flurry of confused questions and embarrassment at being caught off-guard…and had been promptly paired together.

To Wufei’s surprise, it seemed to have worked so far. Heero was a dedicated teammate, a responsive partner, and thorough agent. He could only hope that the other man felt the same about him.

But the more time they spent together, the more he noticed things – small things, really – that chipped away at his perceptions and established assumptions about the other man. For instance, although Heero had little patience for bureaucratic hoops and lying politicians, he was often the calmest person in the room when they ran up against such hurdles. He also bit his nails and worried the seams of his clothing when he was under stress – Wufei had grown to view these as his “tell” and had been devising distractions for the other man ever since he noticed them as the habits they were. Heero also had the uncanny ability to volunteer for things that would have fallen to Wufei. Such instances made Wufei wonder if the other man had picked up on _his_ tells, which only made him wonder what else Heero saw.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Reminder: Preventers’ “Intelligence, Research, and Analysis” division


	2. Chapter 2

**R &D Division, Winner Enterprises  
** **L4-V05001**  
**200 April 1**

Quatre settled the safety goggles and ear muffs on his head, checking the sound system with the cluster of lab-coated scientists that made up the so-called “phasers” team at Winner Enterprise’s R&D Division. They had constructed the prototype that he cradled in his hands – a weighty thing, despite its size. He’d have to find a way to make it lighter if it would be of any real use for extended field service.

But he supposed with directed energy, lightweight storage was a bit of a problem. 

Several yards before him, a soft mannequin of vaguely pink synthetic stuff hung from the ceiling of the testing bay, intended to simulate the damage done by the weapon to the human body. He suspected the crew had even shoved a skeleton in there – one of the medical labs had reported one had gone missing. 

“Alright,” he said, grasping the weapon securely between his hands and taking aim, “Directed energy handheld. Live fire, test one.”

With a decisive _pop_ , the mannequin swung gently, as if mildly irritated. Quatre smirked and took aim again, letting the power source draw more energy than before. “Live fire. Test two.”

He pulled the trigger once more and this time, with a muffled _bang_ , the mannequin at the opposite end swung as if struck by a particularly aggressive football player, the chains that mounted it to the ceiling whining against the abuse. Quatre nodded in approval and glanced down at the gauge mounted to the device, which read no higher than a 2.3. Curiosity piqued, he asked, “What happens when we take off the dampeners?”

The lead tech promptly told him over the intercom, “We would never market it for higher than a 3, sir.”

“Yes, of course not,” Quatre responded, his clipped tone betraying his mild irritation. Glancing back at the small crowd that had gathered on the other side of the safety glass. “But what happens if we take off the dampeners?”

“High-grade damage, sir,” the lead tech told him. “Anything greater than a 4.1 reading on that gauge would make this an _offensive_ weapon, and would thus fall under international arms control regimes. It’s highly unlikely we’d ever be able to get a waiver to market it.” Quatre nodded and promptly threw on the safety while he loosened the component in question. “Sir? What are you doing?” came the frantic questions from behind him.

Dropping dampener to the floor at his feet, he asked, “What happens if we kick it up to 11?” Very carefully, he switched off the safety straightened…

“I wouldn’t advise that you do that, sir—”

“Come now. You all are _scientists_. Where’s your sense of adventure?” Quatre challenged. Aiming at the fleshy target on the opposite wall that swung gently back and forth, he pulled the trigger.

The impact was instantaneous and deafening. Before him, he watched the target blow itself to squishy pieces, nearly atomizing itself at the core before snapping clear off the metal chain. Distantly, he registered the world had taken on an uncomfortable ring, and he was now sitting with his back against the protective wall. Pink matter from the target was raining down from the ceiling and he wondered idly if the sticky sensation at the back of his neck was something to worry about. He flicked the safety back on the device as the scientists sprinted to his aid.

In the crush, he caught Dr. Rasleen Kapoor’s eyes and offered what he hoped was a brilliant, reassuring smile. “Quick – write that down!” he ordered of no one in particular.

“What on _earth_ would possess you to do something so asinine?” she demanded of him, kneeling in front of him. Her reprimand drew criticism, but he was glad she had come down to his level – it was a bit difficult to focus. 

“In the words of a dear friend…rock and roll.” [1]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] [Easter Egg](https://youtu.be/_Dvwd8Hyh-Y) for all you _Back to the Future_ fans.


	3. Chapter 3

**Preventers Headquarters  
** Geneva, Switzerland  
200 May 23 

Heero stopped at the doorway to his office. Wufei had dropped his end of the conversation, something that rarely happened seeing as the Chinese man always had something to say. Turning, he found Wufei staring intently at Heero’s nameplate while he fiddled with the roll of black electrical tape in his hand. 

Heero glanced at the nameplate and found it was mounted securely on the wall, on the opposite side of the door as Wufei’s, the same as always: Room 214-1. Heero Yuy. DV Southeast Asia. Turning his eyes back to Wufei he asked, “…yes?” 

Ignoring the prompt from the other man, Wufei deftly taped over Heero’s job description. Pulling a small notebook and black felt-tip pen from his inner jacket pocket, he bit the cap off the pen with his teeth while he wrote on a scrap of crumpled paper. Using two small pieces of electrical tape, he fixed his [makeshift sign to the nameplate](https://68.media.tumblr.com/9e3c1d5449ed5f33aa6e05c8e11a1cca/tumblr_inline_nvmels8omB1s9zr78_1280.jpg).

Heero eyed his new title and then the other man warily. Wufei was grinning in a sadistic sort of way that Heero was convinced he’d picked up from Sally. “…thanks?” 

With a sidelong glance and still without a word, Wufei turned and continued to walk down the hall. Heero watched his partner go before shaking his head and entering his office…being sure to leave his updated name plate as it was.

No sooner had he booted his system than one Duo Maxwell – clad in a smart suit and tie opposed to his standard-issue flight suit – breezed into the room.

“I did it. It’s done,” Duo sighed, swooping easily into Wufei’s empty desk chair and loosening his tie. Heero eyed him as he crossed to the filing cabinet in the corner, but made no move to extract him from the seat. Wufei could easily do that himself, in his opinion. “Hardest thing I’ve had to do on the job,” Duo continued unabated, “Back-brief the Deputy without sounding like I just walked off the flightline or the streets of L2.”

“I take it the mission went well,” Heero acknowledged, pulling a file on their current case and shutting the draw with his hip.

“Eight agents secured,” Duo informed him, stretching his arms over his head with a yawn.

“So now you’re on stand-by,” Heero observed as he took a seat. A thought dawned on him. “Don’t you have any other actual work to be doing? Besides distract me, I mean.”

Duo shook his head from where he was slowly spinning on Wufei’s desk chair. “Nope, not till this afternoon at least. I figured I’d come over and bug you so I wouldn’t look like the only slack—” Duo stopped speaking suddenly. Heero looked up and felt the muscles in his body tighten, a reaction he’d never really gotten a handle on. He felt the tension melt away when Duo smiled. “I hear interns,” he said, continuing to spin on the swivel chair.

Sure enough, there were sounds of discussion heading down the hall at a surprising rate. Heero groaned, “Run.”

“So…do you know who this ‘Heero Yuy’ is?” the first, a woman, asked. She sounded uncertain. They had probably gotten lost in the maze of hallways just moments before, Heero predicted. Everyone did the first week or so: getting hopelessly turned around before finally realizing that they had just walked in a gigantic circle.

“No,” responded the second intern, a man this time. It sounded like they had just reached the office. “…but apparently he’s a bad ass.”

Duo burst out laughing, his head falling back against the top of the office chair. Heero felt the tips of his ears burn just a bit as he stood and strode defiantly to the door, shouting so as to be heard over the noise coming from the other man, “I didn’t write that – my partner did.” Sticking his head out through the door, he met the wide-eyed faces of two interns. “What do you want?”


	4. Chapter 4

**Preventers Headquarters  
Geneva, Switzerland  
200 July 4**

“Recalcitrant? _Really?_ It’s a _memo_ , Yuy,” Wufei snarled as he walked into their shared office, still looking at the mobile phone in his hand, upon which – Heero assumed – he was reading said memo.

“If you can use ‘obstreperous’ in your analysis papers, I can use ‘recalcitrant’ in an action memo.”

Wufei heaved a sigh and Heero felt the corners of his mouth twitch upward. He had found over the past few months that he rather enjoyed the other man’s penchant for the dramatic. It was entirely unlike any of their friends and was proof that Wufei did, in fact, give a damn.

“So what is this?” Wufei asked at last, finally meeting Heero’s eyes and dropping his phone in the storage locker outside their door before re-entering their workspace. “A war of the somewhat archaic, superfluous language?” His tone held that familiar edge of combativeness that was unique to Wufei and Wufei alone.

Heero shrugged, nonchalant, clicking ‘send’ on the email he finished drafting to their division chief, and swiveled in his office chair to face Wufei. “We have to keep the reading level above the age of ten somehow.”

Wufei squinted down at him a moment but then acknowledged, “Fair call.”

“Double-plus-good,” Heero shot back without missing a beat. [1]

Wufei did a double-take and stared a moment before he laughed and shook his head, crossing to his desk. “The fact that you made that reference here in the office gives me hope for our future.”

They lapsed into comfortable silence, interrupted by the occasional questions on deadlines, travel, and assessments. It was easy to work with Wufei, Heero had found. The other man – his partner, truth be told – was a dedicated and driven agent. Meant he was reliable…despite his tendency to be gruff, and sometimes haughty, and _absolutely_ stubborn. 

Stubborn. Heero almost chuckled at the thought. Yes, he was quite stubborn, but he knew quite a few others who could give him a run for his money in that regard.

Behind them, there was a knock. Turning, Heero found one Agent Louis Wek leaning into their office, his arms braced against the doorframe. “Heero, Wufei,” he greeted them. “Are you going to the counter-intel roundtable?”

In the corner of his eye, Heero watched Wufei subtly check his calendar before answering, “No.”

“I thought these meetings had been put on hold when… _what’s-his-name_ left,” Heero added. 

The other agent nodded and acknowledged, “Sounds right. The CI division has been without a Chair since November last year, so everything has kind of ground to a halt.”

Wufei and Heero exchanged stoic glances before Wufei turned back to the other man and said, straight-faced, “That’s a serious work stoppage. Are there any other furniture shortages we should be made aware of?” The question left the younger agent flustered, and garnered a certifiably uncivilized snort of laughter from Heero.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] George Orwell’s _1984_ – among other social criticisms – discusses the deconstruction of language, including synonyms for ‘good’ and the various degrees of ‘good’ (e.g. good, great, phenomenal, etc). Language is reduced to elements of ‘good,’ ‘plus-good’ and ‘double-plus-good.’


	5. Chapter 5

**Winner Family Compound  
L4-V05001  
200 July 12**

Trowa leaned on the metal railing of the estate’s balcony. He had come by during a break in the tour, had tried his damnedest to be on his best behavior, and still Quatre and he had fought. The well-aimed barbs and blanket derision tossed carelessly between them had left Trowa frustrated and hollow and – after the other man had walked out, muttering something about needing to be somewhere – incredibly alone. 

They’d been happy, he thought. In some not-so-distant past, they had actually enjoyed one another’s company, longed for it even, when the monotony of peace had gotten the best of their frayed nerves. Now…now there were schedules and obligations and expectations and the ever-present threat of paparazzi. 

Quatre was burying him. He was hiding him away.

But he had known that was a possibility, didn’t he? Hadn’t he come to terms with that? If so, why did it hurt so much? He had known from the beginning that they lived in worlds apart; but he had hoped that maybe in the in-between hours of dusk and dawn they could be together and still be happy. And as he hurtled towards the edge of inevitable heartbreak, he found himself terrified of the abyss just over the horizon. 

When had he allowed himself become so attached, had become afraid of the fall?

Wrapping his hands around the railing, he felt the cold of the metal under his fingertips. Leaning his weight on the bars, he felt the colony’s manufactured breeze pick up and heard it call through the honeycomb of balustrades around him. Smiling, he bent to pull off his socks and tossed them through the open door which led back into the warm light of Quatre’s office. 

Taking the metal in hand again, he pressed down with his palms and pushed himself up onto the thin railing. Bringing his legs underneath his body, he allowed his toes to spread and the balls of his feet to brace themselves against the bar. The image of a gargoyle flashed in his mind’s eye and he smiled, wondering if their stone wings ever cried for flight like his heart did.

Slowly, slowly he stood, gradually letting his fingers slip from the bar as he straightened his knees. Raising his arms, he spread them out like wings, stood at the precipice and felt something in his chest throw itself into the dark air. The wind swirled around his body, grasping at his shirt and whipping the fabric around his torso, calling, urging – there was nothing between them like this, he realized. Just him, the wind, and the open air over the blinking colonial city’s lights so far below and even farther up above. Closing his eyes, he let it pull at him, encouraging the fall…

But his balance was firmly planted and as he opened his eyes again, he still stood upon the balcony railing. Lowering himself into a crouch, he slid off the bar and to safety once more upon the balcony tile.


	6. Chapter 6

**Preventers Headquarters  
Geneva, Switzerland   
200 August 29**

“The hell is this?” Wufei demanded, walking into the office he shared with Heero to find Duo Maxwell, clad in an olive flight suit, his black boots crossed at the ankle and resting comfortably on the top of Wufei’s desk. “Why are you always in _my_ chair?” 

Without missing a beat, Duo grinned and shot back, “Because you’re never here. One would think you make Heero do all your homework for you.”

Wufei narrowed his eyes down at the other man, but before he could retort, Heero chimed in from the other side of the room, “He’s on to us.”

The comment derailed Wufei’s frustration entirely. Shaking his head, he sighed and dropped his notepad on his desk with little ceremony. Duo angled his head and feet to watch the action, but made no motion to relinquish the office chair.

Wufei asked, “Did you just get off the flight line?”

“Yeah,” Duo responded with a fresh flash of teeth, but something sounded…off. 

Wufei glanced back at Heero and saw the other man had tilted his head at the response, almost as if something in the younger man’s tone had pricked his ears painfully. Giving Duo a more thorough once-over – noting the standard-issue black tank and tags just visible under the half-zipped flight suit – realization slowly dawned on Wufei. The only reason he would have come straight to headquarters from the airfield without bothering to change would be if things had not gone according to plan. “How many caffeine pills did you take today?” he asked.

“Seven.”

Wufei felt his jaw go slack and was grateful for Heero’s ready response of, “God _dammit_ , Duo—”

“Hey man, they don’t consult _me_ when they make a ‘no crew rest’ determination,” Duo spat back. “We don’t come home till they come home, and sometimes they don’t come home until a lot later than we had anticipated.”

“You are going to be miserable,” Wufei told him, “and then you are going to crash because you’ve effectively poisoned yourself.”

“I’m miserable _now_ ,” Duo countered looking up at him, and for the first time since Wufei walked in, he saw the fatigue in those ‘L2 Blue’ eyes. “But…But I have to get through the de-brief first. After that, I can go home, be sick, and then maybe – _maybe_ – I will be able to sleep.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Vice Foreign Minister Darlian’s Residence  
** **L4-V05001**  
**200 September 2**

Relena leaned back and stared up at the colony’s other half that hovered above them, just passed the clouds. She had invited one Quatre Winner to join her for coffee at her residence, and had been delighted when it took little to no urging to convince the man to join her out on the house’s covered porch. Sitting like this, she could almost convince herself that they were in fact in private, enjoying one another’s company. Almost.

They’d killed time discussing business and policy. After the coffee service had arrived, conversation shifted to more pleasant dealings, dancing skillfully around information and questions about some of their mutual friends.

After a time, they’d slipped into a shared, comfortable silence, enjoying the day and the respite from their other responsibilities. Relena watched the gardeners in the distance on the property, cars driving to and from through the gate beyond them. She wondered if her neighbors were keeping an eye on her, and decided not to think about it.

“So…do you have plans for Eid?” [1] she asked him at last, returning her thoughts to their conversation.

He smirked. “I haven’t decided yet.”

“You? Not decided?” she asked, verifiably astonished. “Quatre Winner without a plan. It’s almost blasphemous.”

His smile softened. “I know – less than two months away and I honestly haven’t a clue.” She watched his gaze drift downward to fall on the glasses between them. A finger idly traced the mosaic table top. “Usually I’m too busy to really make much more than work plans,” he explained. “But things have felt…off recently. I might take a shuttle to visit my sister…”

“Which one?”

He laughed at this, returning to the present. “Fair point,” he admitted. “Fatima. The oldest. She and her husband own a pretty sizable property in Jordan. The family usually uses it to get together, when we can.

“Her family keeps growing,” he continued. “Her children are now starting to have children of their own.”

“Oh God.”

“Exactly,” he agreed with a grimace. “But…her son, Khaled. I enjoy talking to him – you could say I live vicariously through him, I suppose. He’s our age.”

Relena leaned forward, resting her arms heavily on the table between them. “What’s it like? Being a normal twenty-something?”

“Apparently there’s school,” Quatre answered, leaning forward conspiratorially, and ticked things off on his fingers. “Also dating. And video games.”

“Video games?”

“Yes, indeed.” 

“Who knew?” she asked, facetious. 

“Certainly not me,” he shot back, taking a sip from his quickly cooling coffee. “Apparently they’re quite fun.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Assuming 2100 CE = AC 001, AC 200 would be 2299 CE. [According to this site](http://www.timeanddate.com/holidays/us/eid-al-fitr), Eid-al-Fitr would fall on October 27.


	8. Chapter 8

**Location Undisclosed  
200 October 28**

“I’m working Halloween. Can you fucking believe it? Blasphemy,” Duo cursed into the phone. He pulled his jacket tighter around his small frame, huddling down against the cold air that whipped around his shoulders.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Trowa reassured.

Duo shot back an angry bark of laughter. “Ch’yeah, ‘course. But the assholes we’re up against are gonna fuckin’ rue the day, man.” He grinned when this earned him a tired chuckle on the other end, the sound warm and inviting.

“Don’t you usually confer with Heero on these sorts of things?”

“Oh, he’s already gotten an earful,” Duo told him, glancing up to check traffic before crossing the bustling street. He laughed to himself at the flash of a memory, Heero’s baby blues fixed on him and brimming with exasperation. Even so, he thought he’d saw some hints of sympathy in there somewhere, buried just under the surface. Heero’d lived with him for years – he knew you didn’t mess with Duo’s dead’s rites. “Maybe he’ll feel sorry for me and find some place to get a couple calaveras.” _Maybe I should text him to call in a favor…_ He’d put some marigolds on the shelf in his room before he left.

“You’re not in Geneva?” Trowa asked him, sounding surprised. “Where are you?”

“Pre-Po. [1] I’m on the way to the hangar now.”

“Ah, I see. Hence why you’re not regaling Wufei…unless of course you got to him too.” 

“Ha, ha,” Duo responded with a mirthless laugh. “Oye, Trowa – tell me a ghost story. ‘Tis the season, and all.”

“Seriously?” Trowa asked him, sounding incredulous and amused in equal measure.

“Yeah, seriously – you have the best ones. You travel around so much, you see some weird shit.”

“Or I’m delusional.”

“Hey I wasn’ gon’ say anything, but…Lord knows how many times you’ve fallen on your damn head with this new act of yours,” Duo gently reprimanded.

Trowa laughed again and admitted, “The answer is probably ‘a few times too many’ if we’re honest with ourselves.” He sighed and finally acquiesced, “Okay. I’m assuming you want a recent one, correct?”

“Of course.”

“So…nothing traumatic this time,” Trowa began, matter-of-factly, “just weird. We were in the Philippines last month over a break between shows—”

“Because why not.”

“Right,” Trowa agreed. “Anyway, me and some of the others. We were hopping between cheap guesthouses and hotels and the like. Crash pads, more than anything. While in Manila, Enyonyam – you remember her?”

“She’s your sometimes drill sergeant, sometimes co-star, yeah? The silks?”

“That’s her. While in Manila, she started feeling really run down and was complaining that none of her photos were focusing correctly. We ended up giving up on her camera and using our phones instead.

“I figured she’d come down with some bug, or the jetlag was getting to her. And the camera, who knows. Maybe it’d been damaged during one of our relocations. In any case, our last night there, I’m awake with one of our other performers sharing cigarettes and booze on this sorry excuse for a balcony. It had to be getting close to dawn – the sky was starting to bleed along the horizon – and I look back into the room on all these sleeping bodies.

“And there, standing over her – _leaning_ over her – is this dark figure. I assume it’s a person but I just can’t tell who. So I stand up and go to walk back into the room. 

“The moment I cross the threshold, it straightens, turns, and walks straight through the fucking wall.”

“Christ. Was she okay?” Duo hissed, suddenly concerned.

“Oh she was fine. Slept through the whole thing. As it happens, that morning she was feeling better, completely recuperated. So.”

“You didn’t tell her?”

Trowa chuckled once more and said, his voice dark, “Not everyone wants to hear ghost stories, Duo.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] As in “prepositioned” for the mission. Preventers sent Duo and his team ahead, closer to their target so that they weren’t losing time leaving from Geneva.


	9. Chapter 9

**Preventers Operations Hangar  
Geneva, Switzerland  
200 November 19**

Duo hummed softly with the audio that filtered up to him from battered, ancient speakers from the sound system that sat on an abandoned chair somewhere on the hangar floor. He smirked, his hands buried in paneling and gears for final inspection, while the system ran through the playlist assembled by their young comms officer. Apparently the team had mind-melded on good taste in music, something for which he was grateful. It helped focus and kept the babbling at bay, a habit he’d never been able to break and only grew worse the closer they got to launch time.

“Look sharp, kids,” his co-pilot alerted the team scattered about the helicopter, “the Mads are here.”

Duo looked up at that to see the black sedan slide to a halt just outside the hanger. An agent with dark glasses and a dark suit stepped out from behind the steering wheel, and he registered the passenger door shutting with a muffled slam. It wasn’t necessarily unusual for suits to show up prior to departure, especially if they were doubling as the field agents’ handler. 

It wasn’t until the blond bombshell turned the corner that his stomach plummeted. Standing, he wiped the grease from his hands and strode toward them on the back of his helo. “Sally Po,” he shouted down at her as she approached. “To what twist of fate do we owe the pleasure of an LM Deputy [1] visiting our humble hangar?”

“I wanted to talk to you about the mission specs,” she answered easily enough, gesturing to him, indicating that he should follow her around the other side of the helo he stood atop. 

Following her, Duo walked back toward the cockpit and crouched to leap down off the bird, landing with a gentle thud on the hangar floor. He closed the distance with her and muttered, “You realize acoustics are shit, right?”

She smirked. “Of course. But I wanted to talk to you specifically about this.

“Be careful with this one, Duo,” she muttered, the timbre of her voice shifting into something uncertain, which was completely alien to what he was accustomed to with her. “I’ve got a bad feeling in my guts about it. Something’s off.”

Duo offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “Something’s always off, Sally – you never get anything 100 percent right. The plan’s usually shot to hell as soon as we enter the airspace, so…”

She chuckled at that and shook her head. “I suppose that’s true. I just wish I could shake this feeling that our friends at IRA are missing something important. Can’t prove it, don’t have any reason on paper.” She shook her head again and clapped him on the shoulder. “Either way, I have nothing but confidence in you.”

“You realize you’ve just jinxed me, right?” he shot back with a glare, but his eyes lacked the angry fire that was his tell. “We’ll handle it – whatever it is.”

Sally’s smile softened at this. “I know, I know. Just be careful, okay.”

“No dogfighting. Got it.”

She laughed at last and Duo felt as if the tension had finally burst. With a shake of her head, they walked back around to the other side of the helo, rejoining his team and her staffer. “Best of luck,” she told him and his team. “We’re counting on you – and so are our agents in the field.” 

With enthusiastic thanks and overwhelming confidence, the team ushered her out so they could complete their final checks. Duo meanwhile turned to his co-pilot and the two shared some unspoken understanding of the challenge ahead.

Once the Deputy’s car was gone, Duo clapped his hands loudly, shaking the team from their reveries. “What do we say?” he asked.

The response was instantaneous and from all directions, from every one of his crew members: “We don’t come home till they come home.”

Duo smiled and nodded, confidence restored. “Let’s go get ‘em.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Sally was promoted to become one of several Deputy Directors in the Preventer’s Logistics and Mission Support (LM) division. She overseas and approves field missions – including EXFIL like Duo’s – for her entire region.


	10. Chapter 10

**Preventers Headquarters  
Geneva, Switzerland  
200 November 21**

“Heero, let’s go. Come on.”

Heero looked up at his partner, who swung into their office, grabbed a pen and looked like he was about to physically remove Heero from his desk chair. “What is it?” He glanced quickly at their shared calendar and reaffirmed he was not in fact scheduled for anything.

“There’s a brief that you are going to want to be at,” Wufei informed him, backing towards the door, clearly agitated and anxious to get moving. “Come on,” he urged again.

Heero swallowed the long-suffering sigh that threatened to slip between his lips and stood without audible complaint. Pocketing a small notebook and pen for himself, he slipped on his suit jacket and followed Wufei, who was apparently trying to break a land-speed record to the conference room. Heero saw him check his watch no fewer than three times between their office and the elevator bay. Wufei viciously hit the button for the seventh floor until the doors closed and they ascended.

As they entered the conference room, Heero felt his stomach drop. Hovering about the table was not the usual crowd from their division – he recognized a few from the operations side, a few senior analysts…and Sally Po. She caught his gaze and held it, nodding in a silent acknowledgement of the two of them. 

This did not bode well.

Wufei tapped his elbow and guided him into a chair in the back as those milling about took seats along the wall or the table itself. A man Heero didn’t recognize moved to the podium and pulled up a satellite image grab of some undisclosed location. Yellow and green pins pock-marked the image designated targets, evac locations, and last known point of contact.

Heero recognized those serial numbers.

He turned sharply to Wufei, who was watching him, not the briefer. His partner said only, “Told you that you’d want to be here.”

His guts knotting, Heero turned back to briefing, eyes and ears wide open.

The heavy-lift helicopter had gone down three klicks from the border in hostile territory. In addition to the two pilots, there were another three crew members and three Preventers field agents which had been evacuated following an imbed mission going south. There had been no contact since 0230 local time, which meant crew’s whereabouts and status were uncertain. 

What they did know, the briefer explained, came from the last audio transmission from the helo’s comms system which had been patched into the Preventers’ secured lines. With a pause and a click on the podium’s keyboard, the conference room’s audio system came to life.

“Mayday, mayday!” a woman hailed over the intercom. Heero recognized her voice and pegged her immediately as the co-pilot who had towered over Duo and Heero alike back at the December graduation ceremony. “Echo-xray-one-seven-seven-two going down—” 

Over the growing chatter, he heard Duo mutter, “We just got hit with a beam cannon. Of all things. How the fuck did they get one of those out here?” He sounded…perturbed, and Heero felt the twitch of a smile at the corner of the mouth before he could school is features. Next to him, he could feel tension mounting in Wufei. The man had crossed his arms almost protectively over his ribs and pressed his back flat against the chair he sat on.

When Duo spoke next, it was all business. “Secure our passengers.”

“Passengers secured!” came the call over the radio from one of the crew.

“Please tell me we’re walking distance from a border…”

“Gwen, I need a place to put her down.”

“Working it—”

“Gwen!” Duo sounded agitated now, the name coming from between gritted teeth. Over the comm, Heero could hear the tell-tale sound of the rotary wings beginning to whine.

“Clearing! Clearing, three o’clock.”

“Alright folks – strap in. This gonna hurt. Brace for impact.”

The briefer pre-emptively cut the audio feed then, turning back to the assembled agents, analysts, and leadership. Talk quickly shifted to additional extraction options.

“Can we send in another crew?”

“Airspace is still hot – they’re looking for them, based on the SIGINT [1] at hand.”

“Don’t we have capital cover?” 

“Of course we do,” Sally assured, leaning back in her chair. “But not all capitals are willing to risk civil war over a few Preventer agents mucking around in their backyard.”

“We haven’t had contact with the agents or the crew since the helo went down,” a man in a dark suit intoned, sounding uncomfortable. “How certain are we that there are survivors to extract?”

Sally once more answered, her voice sour, “Regardless, we bring our people home. That’s why we _have_ an EXFIL program.”

Heero leaned in towards Wufei, who ducked his head close enough for him to whisper, “I don’t know why this is even a debate. Of course they’re alive.”

Wufei exhaled, which was colored by the undertones of jaded laughter. “He’d run for it, too – what’s that phrase he’d use? Something about pop stands—” [2]

“Gentlemen, do you have something to add?” Heero and Wufei sat back in their chairs, caught. The man at the table who had spoken eyed them for a moment and straightened, suddenly realizing he didn’t recognize them. “Who are you, exactly?”

“I asked them to come,” Sally responded, quick to defend their presence. “Wufei and Heero both have… _specialized_ knowledge in these sorts of situations, and know the pilot well. From an analytical standpoint, they’ll be able to get into his head, so to speak. May be able to help us streamline the search.”

“Alright,” the man acknowledged with a nod, waving his hand at them and offering them the floor. “Let’s hear it.”

Heero and Wufei exchanged glances and with silent agreement, Wufei began, “Well…first and foremost, they’re alive. That much is guaranteed.”

“How can you be so sure?” the briefer asked him from the front of the room.

“Because, and with all due respect, ‘Brace for impact,’ is not something you want to hear. But if you’re going to hear it, there’s no one else you’d rather hear it _from_ ,” Heero answered with absolute certainty. “Duo could fly and safely land a cement mixer if you strapped wings and rocket engine on it. They’re off the grid, but they’re alive.” 

Wufei nodded his agreement beside him before continuing, “Second: they’ll make for the border.”

“What if there are injured, or casualties?”

“Then they’ll make for the border with injured or casualties in tow,” Heero answered, confused by the question. “They’re not going to stay at the crash site – not in hostile territory.”

“They won’t take the shortest route either, for that matter,” Wufei added. “If there are border guards sympathetic to the faction they’re running from, we’ll be dealing with more than a logistical challenge. They’ll take a longer route to avoid unpleasant exchanges.”

The briefer turned back to the map and asked, “So we should be focusing our search and rescue on the border, north and south of the direct line?” He walked up to the projector screen and tapped a location where the border dipped away, along a bend in the river between the two countries. “So…around here?”

“That’s what I’d do,” Heero told him. Beside him, Wufei nodded again.

There was a heavy pause among those assembled as gears started turning. A woman they didn’t recognize asked, smirking, “You have extensive experience crossing borders illegally, agents?”

Heero glanced furtively at Sally before responding, “I’m fairly certain that’s still classified, ma’am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Signals Intelligence or SIGINT refers to collection and analysis of intercepted communications between people or electronic signals produced by various technology and equipment.
> 
> [2] The phrase Wufei’s looking for is, “Let’s blow this pop stand,” an archaic turn of phrase Duo picked up from some Sweepers in the years preceding Operation Meteor. Another one he’s partial to is to “get the Hell outta Dodge.” Duo knows only that they mean to depart ASAP, and has no context beyond that.


	11. Chapter 11

**Unit #1312, Preventers HQ Subsidized Housing Complex  
** **Geneva, Switzerland**  
**200 November 30**

“I can handle myself, thank you very much,” Duo countered, leveling a heavy glare at the man standing in his doorway.

Wufei quirked an eyebrow at that, and gave him a once-over. “Clearly. I assume the disheveled look was intentional, then?” he asked, his gaze settling on the mop of chestnut hair that tumbled down over Duo’s left shoulder. 

Duo had no answer to that. One-handed – his broken right arm still bound and braced against his ribs – he had only managed to twist an elastic band loosely around the unwieldy mane but the damn thing kept coming undone and he could only do so much with his teeth. 

And that was just his hair. He’d managed to tug himself into a pair of loose-fitted sweats which – now that he was in them – he was sure did not in fact belong to him, but shirts were out of the question entirely. This was problematic with winter on the Genevan air, and their unit’s heater on the fritz as per usual. He’d spent much of the morning huddled under a blanket on the couch, loath to go back to his bedroom, but lacking the energy to do much else. 

“Come on,” Wufei said at last, rolling his eyes and pushing past him into the apartment. Duo let him pass, resigned, shutting the door behind him. 

Truth be told, he was happy for the company. Heero had left earlier that morning for some work trip for which he had apparently drawn the short straw – he had mentioned something about snakes, which Duo knew he despised. Before his departure, he’d brewed Duo a pot of coffee and left a scribbled a note on the counter, reminding Duo to take his pain meds with food. As if he wasn’t a damned adult. As if he hadn’t gotten himself into this state to begin with. His mild incapacitation had left him home-bound and hopelessly bored.

That is, until Wufei showed up with take-out.

The man pulled off his scarf and slid out of his jacket, hanging both of them up in the front hall closet before heading into the kitchen, Duo trailing behind him. “Have you eaten today?” Wufei asked, setting cartons of food on the counter before rummaging through the cabinets and drawers for serving dishes and utensils.

Duo shrugged despite the fact that the other man’s back was turned. “I had some oatmeal and coffee this morning with the pills. They make me groggy though, so…slept most of the day.” He glanced up at the digital clock on the oven and winced. Definitely slept most of the day. 

“Oatmeal and coffee. That’s it?” Wufei pressed, sounding every bit as if he disapproved. He turned back to Duo, clearly intent on continuing his reprimand but was caught short when he got an unobstructed view of Duo, now that he wasn’t half-hidden by the apartment’s door. “Wow,” he muttered, leaning heavily on the countertop.

Duo tilted his head to the side and leaned against the wall. “What is it?”

Wufei nodded at him, his eyes locked on the bruising that ran over Duo’s trapezius muscles and spanned his ribcage. The black and blue was gradually morphing into an angry green – Duo knew it wasn’t pretty. “I haven’t seen bruising like that in a long time,” Wufei muttered. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he seemed to recover and offered a thin smile. “You crack any ribs?”

“Ha. Ha, ha,” Duo laughed bitterly, and then admitted, “Yes. But the arm was the worst. Is,” he corrected, lifting his right arm half-heartedly off his chest before letting it fall back once more. “Is the worst.”

“You’re right-dominant too,” Wufei mulled, and then smirked. “Good thing I only brought you soup, but perhaps I should cobble together a bib…”

“Ah, com’on man, gimmee a break,” Duo whined turning on his heel and trudging back to the couch, Wufei trailing behind. “I’m not _completely_ useless,” he reminded the other man as they each took a seat.

“Pipe down,” Wufei ordered, handing Duo his soup, which had been transferred into an oversized café au lait cup he’d found in one of their cabinets. “I cancelled a date to come take care of you tonight.”

“Wait, wait-wait-wait,” Duo sputtered staring at the other man as if convinced he had heard wrong. He took the offered mug in a trance, stunned. “You? Date?”

“Yes…?” Wufei answered, sounding uncertain about how this sudden revelation would affect the other man’s recovery timeline.

After a beat, Duo laughed, wincing through the pain it caused. “I thought you’d be the married-to-the-job type. Zhang Wufei is dating people. Oh for the love of God…” he prattled, chuckling as he took a sip from the mug. In the corner of his eye, he watched as Wufei drew his legs up and crossed them on the couch, his demeanor withdrawing just as easily. 

_Oops. Nerve ending._ “So who is it?” Duo prompted.

Wufei shrugged, poking at his own food with a set of chopsticks he must’ve brought with him from home. “Some girl I met at the library.”

Duo snorted. “Of course you met her in the library. She nice?”

“Nice enough,” Wufei answered. “It’s not really that serious.”

“But you _did_ have plans to meet up with her tonight.”

“Right.” Wufei seemed to regain his vindication then. “So don’t be a dick to me for taking care of you, okay? I had perfectly decent plans lined up until you took a nasty tumble out in a field somewhere.”

“Okay, okay,” Duo acquiesced. “So what’s in the cards tonight? Oh!” he started, before Wufei could respond. “Can we watch some like…ancient history drama kinda thing? Heero doesn’t like ‘em, so…”

“Sure,” Wufei answered then seemed to consider something. “‘Ancient’ history as in…the Qin Dynasty, the Tudors, or the Cold War?” [1]

“Erm…any of them?” Duo offered, helpfully.

Wufei snorted and shook his head, pulling out his phone and beginning to flip through what Duo could only guess was the digital media catalogue they shared amongst the five of them. While Wufei searched – making suggestions as he found them – Duo mulled a thought that he’d been toying with over the last few days, but had hesitated in sharing.

They were approaching their five-year anniversary. They all blew past April like bats out of Hell, but…December 25 was fast approaching, and he didn’t think he’d be able to ignore that this time. 

Usually, he and Heero would make their way star-side and spend a week or two with Hilde. But this year was different – this year was special, or so _he_ thought at least. It seemed wrong not to acknowledge it in some way.

“Hey…‘Fei…” he began. Wufei acknowledged him with a wordless hum, his eyes still on the screen of his phone as he flipped through titles. Duo continued, “Do you think maybe this year we could get together for the holiday? The five of us, I mean.”

At this, Wufei did turn to him, his face perfectly controlled. The stoic demeanor was becoming increasingly out of character. “I haven’t mentioned it to anyone else,” Duo reassured, sensing the other’s uncertainty. He turned back to his soup, and avoided the other’s gaze. “I just thought…maybe it’d be nice, ya know? Get everyone together under one roof. We’ve never been able to do that.” He lapsed into silence and waited.

Wufei was quiet for some time, but then offered, gently, “I think it’s a good idea.” Duo looked up and smiled at that. “Yes, let’s try for it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Qin Dynasty (221-206 BCE), the Tudors (1485-1603 CE), and the Cold War (1947-1991 CE) would all be generally considered “ancient” history by the youth of AC 200 (2299 CE), all things considered.


	12. Chapter 12

**Preventers Headquarters  
Geneva, Switzerland  
200 December 17**

There was a knock at the door, and Duo glanced up from the paperwork on his desk to find a tall, blond man in a Preventer field jacket towering in the doorway. He was older, Duo determined, sizing him up, and a bit rough around the edges. “Liam Campbell,” the man introduced himself, stepping forward and offering his hand to Duo, “L2-V08744 Branch Chief.”

“Duo Maxwell,” he responded, as he stood and took the outstretched hand with his own. He schooled his features as his stomach turned at the sound of those numerals, and glanced around the office a moment, hesitant. It felt awkward to receive someone in the space. Wufei had generously allowed him to use his work station while his and Heero’s team chief was on assignment – which meant Wufei got to enjoy a room with a view, clearly a far better deal. Duo shot a wayward glance toward Heero, but the other man was busy typing away at some report and made no move to acknowledge the two of them. 

In the end, Duo gestured toward one of the chairs opposite his borrowed desk and took his seat once more. Campbell slid into the chair and glanced around the room, taking it in. “So what can I help you with, sir?” Duo asked.

“Did you see the cable that went out a few weeks ago?”

“I’m sorry, no,” Duo admitted. “I’ve been catching up on traffic – suffered a nasty fall in November and was laid up for a couple weeks. Just got back to work, but I’m stuck on desk duty until the medical folks clear me.”

“I heard,” Campbell intoned. “An insertion helicopter up against a beam cannon.” Duo thought he sounded mildly impressed, and wondered how he’d heard about it. “Amazing you and your crew made it out alive, much less the guys you went to go get. That must’ve been some impressive flying to crash land and have everyone walk away from it.”

“Well…limp away, as the case may have been,” Duo told him with a grin. He’d only recently been allowed to leave the arm out of its sling for any length of time. “We were all pretty concussed. And there’s no shame like the shame of an EXFIL team being evacuated by another EXFIL team. We do have rivalries, after all.” 

Campbell chuckled and shook his head, and Duo took the opportunity to redirect, “So what brings you into the inner halls of HQ? It’s not exactly a particularly inviting place,” he said with a wave at the largely blank walls of Wufei and Heero’s office. “Heero’s been trying to get permission to have a window installed, but I think his neighbors in the office next door have been a bit resistant…”

“We’re looking for agents from L2 – preferably from V08744 – who have understanding of local culture and wouldn’t mind taking time away from the office to serve as a consultant for our team. We have an on-going investigation into some trafficking activity that’s picked up recently, but every lead we get clamps down. We can’t get anyone to talk to us, and as a result, we can’t keep the bad guys off the streets.”

“What kind of trafficking?”

“Small arms mainly, but drugs too. I’ve been making the rounds here at HQ hoping that someone would be willing to help us out. We’re just looking for some folks to give us some inside information, spend some time with the team on-colony, and shed some light on the situation that we wouldn’t have picked up on our own.”

“Like why they don’t trust you enough to talk?”

“Well, that’s one.”

“Because of the badge,” Duo told him with a smirk, and then let his eyes leave the man’s face to fall on his coat. “The jacket doesn’t help much – last guys who wore green coats on-colony weren’t…eh…‘popular,’ we’ll say.” He raised his eyes once more to meet the other man’s gaze. “I’m surprised they wouldn’t have sensitized you all to this kind of stuff before you got there, though.”

“They did, they did,” Campbell acknowledged. “But standard operations and investigations don’t necessarily go by the book, as I’m sure you’re aware.

“We need someone to shadow us in the field,” the older man continued, “and help us adjust our approach so that we can do our jobs. We’ve had no breaks in the case, and won’t get any until people feel safe enough to trust us.”

“So what’s this got to do with me?” Duo prompted.

“I heard through the grapevine that there was a solid EXFIL pilot from L2 who’s been grounded due to injuries from his last mission, and he’s on desk duty until he gets the okay to head back to the flight line. What do you say? Want to join my team for a bit?” 

Duo made to protest, but Campbell held up a hand and pressed ahead, “You wouldn’t even have to travel to the colony all that often. It’d be as-needed, and I’m sure you’d much rather be flying extractions. I’d only ask that you give us some guidance, let us run some things by you before we move to execute.”

“Sounds like a sweet consulting gig,” Duo told him. “Easy, too. But what makes you think my help will get you anywhere with your witnesses?”

“To be… _flagrantly_ honest, and please don’t take this the wrong way…you’re one of them.”

On the other side of the room, Heero’s incessant typing skipped a beat or two at the admission before resuming. Over Campbell’s shoulder, Duo caught the measured look those blue eyes shot the Preventer agent sitting opposite him. 

“I hate to break it to you, but haven’t been to that satellite since I was a kid,” Duo told him. “I scrambled off-colony as fast as I possibly could.”

“Perhaps,” Campbell admitted with a shrug. “But you’ve been to L2 since then, right?”

“Well, the cluster, yeah—”

“Then you’re already better off than we are.” The blond man shook his head, “You’ll still have a better chance of connecting with anyone we’ve brought in than the rest of us.”

_Well of course_ , was Duo’s gut reaction and he bit down on the words before they could surface. He also swallowed down the bitter laugh that threatened to come tumbling from between his lips. _Guess you can take the kid off the streets, but not the streets out of the kid._

When Duo didn’t respond aloud, Campbell stood and shook his hand once more, handing him his card. “Just give it some thought, okay? I’m down here through the holidays, but will be heading back in early January. It’d be great if you could come with.” And with one final farewell, the man was gone as soon as he’d appeared.

“You going to take it?”

The question startled Duo from his thoughts, realizing he’d been staring at the door while he flipped the man’s card around between his fingertips. “I’m…I don’t know.”

Heero seemed to consider this. “You don’t have to, you know.”

“I know,” Duo acknowledged, turning to meet Heero’s blue eyes, which seemed particularly sharp today. “But they need help. Maybe it’ll do some good…”


End file.
